


words are futile devices

by whimsical



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Bucky, Emotional Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 15:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7273639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsical/pseuds/whimsical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The memories with Steve are the brightest spots in Bucky’s hazy mind. He clutches onto them like a lifeline that connects him to his humanity, making at least a small part of him believe that he’s more than the blood his hands are soaked in. </i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>or: Bucky has trouble sleeping, and Steve helps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	words are futile devices

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Futile Devices" by Sufjan Stevens (aka the most Steve/Bucky song to ever exist.)

Bucky wakes up with a start, blinking rapidly to get rid of the soft fuzziness that blurs his vision. The sheets that had been wrapped around him have been tossed to the foot of the bed and are soaked with sweat, despite the cold night chill that’s drafting in through the open window.

It’s been months since he’s gotten a proper night of sleep. Most days, he spends his nights lying wide awake curled up on one side of the giant bed that Steve had insisted upon buying for him after he had moved in with him. He had become scared of it after multiple nights of waking up screaming, his dreams a stream of countless real faces that he had looked in the eyes of and shot at point blank. Their terrified eyes, wide open and shocked with tears, were seared painfully into his subconscious, their screams a constant echo in his tired ears.

Each time, Steve has woken him up with a soft voice and a gentle touch, his own eyes drooping with sleep and a concerned furrow in his brow that had become common whenever he looked at Bucky. 

As if on cue, Bucky hears the padding of footsteps coming towards his room, and quickly turns away from the door, burrowing his head into the pillows and willing the phantom ache that’s now piercing through his head to disappear. He hates the feeling of helplessness that has been slowly drowning him ever since his memories came back. A part of him longs to be left alone, wanting to start a new life with a new name, new surroundings, to build a wall of new memories that will hopefully block out the ones that have haunted him for far too long. 

He knows that the only thing that was keeping him from acting on that is Steve. Bucky has been an extension of Steve ever since he can remember. Ever since he had pushed a boy with a face full of acne and a cruel sneer off of Steve’s body; Steve had been half the bully’s size yet still painted with a determined look on his face, small hands clenched into tight fists topped with white knuckles. Bucky had taken one look into those wide blue eyes that reminded him of the sparkling sapphires encrusted in his mother’s most precious necklace and felt a soul-deep pull he couldn’t yet explain. A feeling that grew each moment he heard Steve laugh, seen those blue eyes look at him with a fondness he didn’t deserve, felt his hands trembling in his when he found out his mother had passed away. 

The memories with Steve are the brightest spots in Bucky’s hazy mind. He clutches onto them like a lifeline that connects him to his humanity, making at least a small part of him hope that he’s more than the blood his hands are soaked in. 

Steve is still stupidly courageous with a heart so big that even his superhero sized body can barely contain it. Not even war and all the spineless monsters he’s had to fight and sweat for have made a dent in his boundless idealism of the harsh world around him. 

But Bucky? He isn’t the same person that he used to be, naïve and headstrong, or the one that he was made to be, thoughtless and unrelenting. Trying to figure out the in-between was fucking hard when all he wanted was to fit the exact image that Steve had of him, wanting to make his eyes light up with a dirty joke and a wink, be someone who soaked up his pain instead of adding to it. It all felt so far away and impossible no matter how hard he tried to summon it to the surface. 

“Buck?” Steve had come into the room while Bucky was lost in his thoughts, and he feels the mattress dip behind him as a warm hand skims against the scarred skin of his shoulder. 

Bucky makes a soft sound in acknowledgement, head still turned away. He doesn’t want to see the mixture of pity and concern that Steve looks at him with now almost every night after his episodes. His hair is matted with sweat and he knows his eyes are red-rimmed and framed with deep dark circles. The hand moves to his upper back, slowly rubbing soothing circles into his bare skin as Bucky suppresses a shiver.

Steve stills as Bucky turns over to face him, sitting up to prop himself up against the headboard. He moves his hand to Bucky’s shoulder, squeezing lightly, and his heart clenches with want.

For so long, the touch of others has only brought Bucky pain or quick and unsatisfying release when he needed an outlet. But Bucky craves Steve’s touch like a man parched, he wants the heat to seep into his bones and wipe away the chill that seems to have permanently made a home in their hollows. He wants to feel his weight against him, pinning him down, making him feel safe and protected – a feeling he doesn’t even remember any more, having had to stay guarded and ghostlike for so many years.

He finally finds his voice, willing it not to crack. “You don’t have to do this every time Steve, it’s not fair to you. They’re just dreams, I can handle it,” he fails, his voice breaking at the last word. He closes his eyes, helplessly feeling tears collect in the corners. He tries again, “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Jesus Buck,” Steve says, his voice a little strangled. “It’s nothing you didn’t do for me a million times.”

His eyes are wide and warm and earnest when Bucky gets the courage to look up into them. Bucky remembers; countless fear-filled nights which he spent curled around Steve’s sick, shaking body, wracking with cough, hoping to God that the night wouldn’t be his last with him. 

He longs for that closeness once again. Steve hasn’t tried to initiate too much physical contact besides friendly claps on the shoulder or tiny, gentle nudges when Bucky gets visibly lost in his head in public. Once, after a night of watching a couple Disney movies that Sam had insisted were “vital to understanding modern culture,” one about lions or some other talking animals that Bucky can barely remember now, he had sleepily lifted his arms to crowd Bucky into a hug. Bucky had immediately flinched and taken a step back, Steve going rigid and apologies spilling profusely from his lips. Bucky had waved it off with an awkward smile and gone to his room, cursing himself. 

“Well, if you’re going to ruin your sleep like this, you might as well as just stay here,” Bucky says, ducking his head and waiting for Steve to gently say no. Each of the other times Bucky had woken up from nightmares, Steve had stayed until Bucky had fitfully gone back to sleep, gone by the time he woke up again, the other side of the bed cold and unrumpled.

For a moment, Steve is silent, his pink mouth parted in shock or something else Bucky can’t name. 

“Of course Buck, just like old times,” Steve replies finally, one corner of his mouth lifting up as he looks at Bucky with the same fond look that makes his blood grow warmer and his heart thud in his chest.

Bucky wordlessly lies back down and settles against the soft white sheets, turning away from Steve once again, and curving his back invitingly. 

He feels the mattress tremble as Steve lies down and presses close, curves his own body against Bucky’s, settling in the open spaces. “Is this okay?” he whispers, warm breath ghosting against the shell of Bucky’s ear, making a shudder run down his spine that Steve is close enough to feel. 

“Perfect.” He shuts his eyes and soaks in the warmth.

Steve hums in response, wrapping his arm around Bucky’s middle, spreading his fingers against his belly. He tucks his head into Bucky’s nape and tucks his knees into the space behind Bucky’s. Their bodies were made to fit, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, sure and comfortable with no sharp edges or awkward spaces.

He smiles, soft and happy, and swears he feels lips graze the base of his neck in the softest of kisses, and finally succumbs to the exhaustion spreading through his muscles.

\---

Bucky wakes up loose and relaxed and finds their bodies entwined. He’s strewn half across Steve’s chest who’s now lying on his back. His head is tucked into the crook of one broad shoulder, puffing out soft breaths into the side of Steve’s neck. Their long legs are tangled with each other’s, and Steve has a strong arm wrapped possessively around Bucky’s back, holding him close.

Bucky remains as still as possible, not wanting for Steve to wake up and take away the warmth that’s surrounding every part of him. He wants to savor this moment, memorize every contour and then tuck it away in his ribcage. 

Steve looks impossibly beautiful, all the worries and responsibilities that are etched onto his face and tense muscles when he’s awake disappearing, his skin smooth and pillow-soft pink lips slightly parted. His lashes are dark and sooty, casting shadows against sharp cheekbones that are flushed with sleep. 

He wakes a few moments later with a soft groan, blinking sleepily. His eyes are a clear blue ocean, and Bucky is threatening to drown in its depths as he looks up into them.

“Sleep well?” Steve asks, his smile small and his eyes hopeful. He hasn’t moved an inch away, the arm around Bucky still keeping them tucked together. Bucky’s heart feels like it’s going to thud right out of his chest.

Bucky blinks at him, and in sheer adrenaline, moves upward to press his mouth against Steve’s. The angle is awkward and their noses bump. Steve’s lips are dry and yet so soft and Bucky doesn’t notice that Steve is stone-still against him until a beat too late. He pulls away, mortified, scrambling to get off Steve’s chest and untangle them. The knots in his stomach have turned to stone. 

“Fuck. Shit, Steve I’m so sorry, I don’t – fuck,” Bucky struggles to get out, unable to find the words to explain himself, to make this better. His metal hand is clutching the forgotten pillow so tight that he can begin to feel it tear.

The room is painfully quiet apart from the ticking of the room’s old wall clock. The sun is streaming in through the billowy curtains, too bright and unyielding. 

“Did you mean that?” Steve breaks the silence, his voice cutting through the quiet and making Bucky look at him in surprise. There’s no way out of this, he’s never been able to lie to Steve. He nods, his heart in his throat.

“God Buck, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Steve says, and his voice sounds like it’s breaking. “I never thought you – I never thought you would ever want me like that.” His voice suddenly sounds a lot closer and Bucky looks up to see Steve kneeling on the bed beside him. His eyes are a little wet, and he doesn’t realize his own have been tearing up until Steve raises a large hand up to Bucky’s face, gently sweeping the damp skin underneath his eyes with his thumb.

“It’s only ever been you for me, Steve. Ever since I can remember,” Bucky says quietly. His heart feels like it’s liquefying. Hope blooms in his chest like the spring flowers growing outside.

Steve lets out an incredulous laugh, and shakes his head, “Jesus, we’ve been so stupid. To think we could’ve been doing this all this time.”

“Doing what?” Bucky lets out, because even though he thinks he knows where this is going, he still can’t believe something so good is happening to him. He discretely pinches his thigh with shiny metal fingers to make sure he isn’t lucid dreaming.

He feels warm, calloused fingertips under his chin to tilt his head up and Bucky moves readily, licking his dry lips in anticipation. 

This time, Steve presses their mouths together, kissing him soft and slick. He’s dreamed about this for so long and it’s better than he ever imagined. Steve’s hand moves to cup his cheek gently, angling his head to kiss him even deeper.

Bucky groans, parting his lips to skim his tongue across Steve’s full bottom lip. Steve opens his mouth at once, warm and sweet. He tastes a little sour from sleep, with a hint of minty toothpaste. Steve edges his tongue into Bucky’s mouth, soft and a little shy, to meet Bucky’s. 

He makes a pathetic sound and moves his arms up from where they were awkwardly hanging at this side, wrapping them around Steve’s solid shoulders, right hand stroking through the downy hairs at his nape. The space between them is almost non-existent, but Bucky moves even closer, arching up to press their chests together, to feel Steve’s heart beat in the same rhythm as his.

He could do this forever, feel sparks bursting down his spine and pooling into heat in his stomach, his unbridled affection for the man in front of him threatening to consume him. The need for air forces him to wrench his mouth away, panting.

Steve’s eyes are darker than he’s ever seen them, his pupils leaving only a thin circle of blue. He traces the fine edge of Bucky’s cheekbone with his thumb, following it with his mouth to drop a light kiss, and then moving further down to press soft, tickling kisses to Bucky’s jaw and open-mouthed down his neck like he can’t get enough. 

The heat in his stomach threatens to consume him, and still Bucky tilts his head to the side to give Steve better access. 

The kisses stop way too soon, and Steve drops his face into the crook of his neck, nuzzling at his pulse point.

“We should really talk about this,” Steve mumbles, voice muffled. 

Bucky groans, this time not in pleasure. “Way to be a buzzkill, Steve.” He can almost feel Steve’s smirk against his skin. He tangles his hand in Steve’s hair and gently guides him up to meet his eyes, his face serious. “I promise we’ll talk about it later. I just – I’ve wanted you for so long and I really need to just feel – shit, I don’t know how to say this.” He tries again. “You make me feel good Steve. And safe. I haven’t felt like that in so long. Can I please just have this one time? Who knows when everything will turn to hell again and take it all away from me.” 

“Oh Buck,” Steve’s eyes turn sad, and both his hands come up to cup Bucky’s face, like he’s something precious he can’t bear to lose or break. “I’m not going to let anything to you, I swear. We’re both stronger now, we have good people on our side. They’re not taking you from me again,” he says, voice firm and eyes gentle, piercing through Bucky’s soul. 

It’s going to take awhile for Bucky to believe him, but for now it’s enough. He nods, not trusting to his voice to keep steady as Steve pulls him against his chest for a hug, wrapping his arms around him securely and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

They stay like that for a few long moments, and then Bucky pulls his head back a little and kisses Steve hard, less careful than the first time. Steve responds in kind, and gently pushes Bucky back to lie against the sun-warmed sheets.

Bucky is pliant under his hands, and Steve pulls away to stare at him in awe, body cradled between Bucky’s thighs. His lips are red and shiny, swollen with kisses, and Bucky’s sure his are in the same state. 

He fists his hands in the front of Steve’s thin, too-tight shirt, and pulls him back down, diving in to kiss him again, mouth hot and tongues twisting. 

Minutes or hours pass, Bucky can’t tell, content to spend the rest of his life pinned under Steve’s weight and licking into his mouth. 

He trails his hand down the slope of Steve’s back, tugging at the hem of his shirt before sliding his hand beneath it to feel smooth, blood-warm skin. Steve gets the hint and kneels between Bucky’s knees to tug off his shirt in one smooth pull. Bucky’s mouth dries.

“Come back here,” he says, eyes glazing a little at the sight of Steve’s broad shoulders and tapered waist, arms corded with muscle. He wants to touch it all at once.

“I think you should return the favour,” Steve teases, hands going down to pull at Bucky’s shirt. Bucky smirks and lifts up a little to allow him to take his shirt off and toss it carelessly behind him. The look on Steve’s face is worth it, his eyes darkening even further and a low growl coming from his mouth before he comes back down to suck open-mouthed kisses down Bucky’s neck.

Bucky squirms beneath him, unable to keep still, mouth letting out tiny noises of pleasure every time Steve skims his teeth over fragile skin and nips.

Bucky arches his back to push his hips against Steve’s and gasps at the feeling of Steve hard against his own cock. He grinds up, chasing the feeling. Steve groans loudly, and lifts his head up to look at Bucky with darkened eyes. “Bucky, are you sure about this?” 

“Yes! I’m sure Steve, please I want -” Bucky says, cut off by Steve’s mouth, kissing him deep. 

“What d’you want?” Steve’s panting a little against his mouth, and Bucky lifts his hips to grind against him harder just to watch his eyes close and pink mouth part in pleasure.

“Fuck me,” he says, the words coming out of his mouth before he can even think to be embarrassed. 

Steve is staring at him, half in shock and half in longing. “Jesus Christ. Are you sure? God Bucky, you have to be sure. I don’t want you doing this because you think it’s what I want.”

“I’ve never been more sure.” Bucky says, and his hand comes up to cup the back of Steve’s head, pulling him down to kiss him gently. He can’t get enough.

Steve gets off him after a moment, his eyelashes fluttering against Bucky’s cheek. “I’ll get the uh - stuff,” he says, cheeks flushed.

He comes back quickly, and places the bottle of lube and a couple condoms on Bucky’s nightstand. Bucky has taken off his boxers and is spread out on the bed, legs splayed open and hands curled lightly in the sheets beside him. Steve takes a long moment to look, eyes tracing down from Bucky’s messy hair to his long, lithe legs and then settling for a moment on Bucky’s half-hard cock, eyes looking glazed over. Bucky preens a little at the overwhelming affection in his eyes. 

Steve takes his own boxers off, and is back on him in a flash, crowding him into the soft pillows, big hands stroking everywhere at Bucky’s skin and mouth licking at the shell of Bucky’s ear. Bucky would be writhing if he wasn’t being held down. 

“C’mon Steve, please,” Bucky pants out, his legs coming up to lock around Steve’s hips. Steve steals one more kiss before reaching for the nightstand. Bucky feels a growing itch of anticipation crawling over him as Steve kneels between his legs, and he spreads them further, eager.

Steve slicks up his palm, and curls it around Bucky’s cock, stroking it teasingly a few times before thumbing the slit. Bucky jerks at the touch, moaning. It feels intense and overwhelming and good in a way that he’s never felt before. 

“God, Rogers stop teasing,” Bucky says, helpless under the onslaught of sensations. 

Steve smirks, infuriating and hot all at once. “Mm, I think you secretly like the teasing,” twisting his wrist in a move that should be illegal, making Bucky gasp. He’s so hard he could come from just this, from Steve’s hand around him and the way he’s looking at him like he wants to devour him. 

Steve finally let’s go of his cock and grabs a pillow, urging Bucky to lift his hips so that he can slide it under him. He runs his hands over Bucky’s thighs, reverent, and lifts them upward to his chest, hooking one on his shoulder.

He feels a slick finger trailing down the underside of his cock, teasing the soft skin of his perineum and then circling his hole. “You sure you’re ready?” Steve asks, his voice soft, their eyes locking, and he can’t look away. 

Bucky can finally name the feeling that’s pulsing through him, making his heart beat erratically, filling his stomach with warmth and butterflies. It’s the same feeling he had years ago, when he was too young to even understand what love was, but knew that he wanted to be near this skinny, golden-haired boy with a heart of steel and eyes that glittered. And maybe it’s because he finally realizes it, but this time when he looks at Steve, he can see that feeling reflected back at him.

“I trust you,” he says, and reaches out with metal fingers to gently grasp Steve’s free hand and entangle their fingers. Steve nods, and his eyes are so warm and full of love that Bucky has to look away.

Steve pushes a finger inside him, so slow and gradual that Bucky has to resist pushing his hips forward, wanting more, wanting everything that Steve can give. “How’s that?” Steve asks, concerned. 

“More,” Bucky pleads, restlessly shifting his hips so that Steve has to press a hand down on his side to still him. Steve crooks his finger, long and thick, and the change in angle makes Bucky whine and shut his eyes at the sparks of pleasure bursting up his spine.

When he opens them, Steve is smiling and biting his lip. “There you go, just relax, I’ve got you.”

Steve fingers him for what feels like forever, adding a second finger, then third, and fucks Bucky with them hard and deep, curling up to hit Bucky’s prostate. Bucky’s pretty much lost the ability to speak, letting out high-pitched “ah, ah, ah’s,” and scrubbing a hand down Steve’s broad back.

Finally, when he’s panting and desperate and feels like he’s about to come and can’t find the words to tell Steve, he pulls out his fingers and unwraps a condom, rolling it on. Bucky feels dazed as he watches him, still stunned that this is actually happening.

Steve leans down again, framing Bucky with arms braced on either side of head and cradled between his thighs. He kisses him, deep and warm, and stokes one hand through his hair, soothing. Eyes locked and one hand holding onto Bucky’s tightly, he reaches down to grasp himself and sinks inside Bucky, not stopping until he’s buried in tight wet heat.

Bucky shudders immediately at the feeling. Steve is hard and thick and long, and he feels him unbearably deep. He looks up to see Steve watching him closely for any sign of discomfort, a furrow in his brow and teeth sunk in to his bottom lip. 

Bucky smiles and reaches up to stroke his brow, Steve’s face melting into soft affection. He wraps his long legs around his waist, hooking his ankles above Steve’s ass, and pulls him down with hands framing his face to give his bottom lip a soft kiss before slotting their lips together in a deeper kiss.

Steve pulls back with a happy sigh, and Bucky’s arms slide up around his shoulders to keep him in place. 

“Okay?” Steve murmurs, and moves his hips slightly, the slight shift causing them both to moan.

“I’m so good,” Bucky whispers back, hand stroking through the hair at Steve’s nape. “Now please move,” he says, before stealing another quick kiss and then looking at Steve expectantly.

Steve laughs, and Bucky feels it against his chest. He pulls out almost completely, and before Bucky can even register the loss, he thrusts back in with a firm snap of his hips, hard and deep. Bucky keens, and the hands that were gentle in Steve’s hair are now clutching at his back with blunt nails.

Steve finds a rhythm quickly, fucking Bucky with deep thrusts that make his face light up. They both can’t look away from each other, faces so close that Bucky can see the tiny flecks of green in Steve’s eyes. 

“God, you’re so beautiful Buck,” Steve breaths out, his face completely enraptured. Bucky feels his face heating up. He has a hard time thinking positive things about himself, but with Steve, he actually believes him. He kisses him hard in response, tongue mimicking the motions of their fucking, making Steve groan into his mouth and snap his hips faster.

Bucky moans, breaking away and panting as Steve’s cock hits his prostate. Steve notices and tilts Bucky’s hips further up to make each thrust graze against it. He’s suddenly so close, and he claws at Steve’s back, scoring shallow red lines that will disappear in minutes.

“Please Steve, I’m so close, please, please –” he begs, unable to do anything else. He wants to touch himself, but Steve blocks his hand when he reaches for it, pinning it above his head.

“I want you to come just like this, can you do that for me?” Steve’s eyes are huge and earnest, and Bucky moans again, arching up so that his cock rubs up against Steve’s perfect abs. 

When he comes, it’s sudden and hard, the feeling washing over him and making him writhe under Steve. Steve fucks him harder, his eyes going glassy as Bucky tightens up around his cock, spilling white streaks onto both their stomachs. He groans and comes a moment later, shuddering and pressing his face into Bucky’s neck, biting down onto shoulder.

They lay like that for a few moments, revelling in the post-coital glow, and trading gentle kisses. Steve pulls out and gets up to tie off the condom and throw it in the trashcan beside Bucky’s nightstand. He comes back quickly, and wipes off the come from both their stomachs with his discarded shirt. 

“Come back here,” Bucky says, reaching out his arms to tug Steve back into bed. 

Steve complies readily, eager to wrap Bucky up in his arms. He lies back down and pulls the bed sheet over them, and Bucky curls up against his chest, in the same position they woke up in. Steve tangles his free hand with Bucky’s, twining their fingers and then bringing them up to press a gentle kiss against Bucky’s knuckles.

“You’re never going to sleep in your room again,” Bucky mumbles sleepily, already drifting off, his eyelids fluttering to stay awake.

Steve kisses the crown of his head, and tightens the arm wrapped around him, shutting his own eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be about 2k words of fluff to try my hand at writing fic, but it turned into this self-indulgent mess of feelings and porn because I can't resist sad Bucky and lots of hurt/comfort.


End file.
